


so you pull back, make other plans (i understand)

by askmeaboutmyoctopustheory



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bitter Bucky Barnes, Bougie Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt No Comfort, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Steve Rogers Dies, Steve Rogers is an asshole, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, say that five times fast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 03:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19880641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/askmeaboutmyoctopustheory/pseuds/askmeaboutmyoctopustheory
Summary: “Eventually you gotta-”“No, actually I don’t, Wilson.” James said as he pushed a button to open the passenger side vertical door of his sports car. He knew Steve’s superhearing hadn’t gotten worse in his old age and revved his engine obnoxiously as he pulled through the parking lot of the nursing home.-----or: what if bucky (rightfully) decides not to forgive steve?





	so you pull back, make other plans (i understand)

**Author's Note:**

> OUCH 
> 
> ok this is DIRECTLY because of the russo brothers' dumbass comments about endgame steggy and ugh if you don't know, spare yourselves and go read some fluff
> 
> i LOVE peggy carter and her storyline that straight men completely retconned
> 
> i normally never write angst but uhhh
> 
> find me on twitter?
> 
> @_AMAMOT
> 
> title from liability by lorde because thats a big bucky feel

He had to throw himself back into a fight, although it didn’t feel nearly as bad now that the world wasn’t ending anymore. He fought run-of-the-mill bad guys with Sam, shooting the shit with the other Avengers and pretending everything was fine. He was destined forever to be Captain America’s right hand man. Mostly because the rest of the world didn’t want to think about his left hand. 

As much as he had made fun of Howard, and later Tony for replacing their feelings with possessions, he began doing the same thing. Carter, James would think bitterly, had somehow never declared him KIA so he had years of backpay. He loved silk sheets and Gucci tracksuits. He loved driving his maserati with reckless abandon. 

But it would never shake the abandonment. Looking that old bastard in the face and wanting to punch his all-American blue eyes. Sam might forgive him, but Sam didn’t have the history that James had with Steve. Sam hadn’t been abandoned at ‘the end of the line’. And, at the end of the day, Sam was a better man that James.

James would spar with Barton a lot, both of them having a lot of bad shit on their minds. The archer had stayed around after Thanos, only going back to get closure with his family. When Clint was away visiting his children, James would ruin countless of the punching bags in the gym at the compound. He’d punch until he stopped seeing the bruised face on the helicarrier and saw sandbags again. If he went back now, he’d finish the soldier’s mission, throw the dumb blond back into the water.

He felt more unhinged than he ever did as the Soldier. James hadn’t been able to control the Soldier, other people could. Now he had his memory and control of his body, but the rest of him had been cut like a loose marionnette. His therapist told him all his anger was vilified. He just wanted to keep fighting, so he didn’t have time for a breakdown.

“Eventually you gotta-”   
  
“No, actually I don’t, Wilson.” James said as he pushed a button to open the passenger side vertical door of his sports car. He knew Steve’s superhearing hadn’t gotten worse in his old age and revved his engine obnoxiously as he pulled through the parking lot of the nursing home.

“He still refers to you as Bucky, claims his memory’s not all there.” Sam said an hour later as he got back into the sports car blaring Lizzo.

“Well I still refer to him as a cunt and only one of us’ve been brainwashed.” James responded bitterly, scowling behind his Prada sunglasses. “Did he talk about her?” He couldn’t keep his voice from cracking.   
  
“Yeah. The good ol’ days.”   
  
“Spoken like the picture of Aryan perfection he is.” James spat out as he banked a turn a bit too tight.

Sam just looked at him with an expression that held a thousand words, if James cared to hear them. But Sam didn’t judge him. He didn’t judge James sobbing through the night or flinching when someone referred to Sharon as ‘Carter’ over comms. Likewise James didn’t judge him when he saw the man double take at every redhead woman he saw. He didn’t acknowledge it when they were both up too late watching food network and pretending everything was fine.

Apparently Steve was getting worse. He didn’t care, he had cared about that sickly ass enough a century ago. Steve’s kids were lurking around the nursing home more. James made the mistake of lingering a moment one time when he dropped off Sam, only to have his car approached by a woman with twinkling blue eyes.

“Sergeant Barnes?” She asked into his open convertible. “I was hoping I might see you sometime! I’m Becky Rogers, dad named me after you.”   
  
“Nah ma’am. He named you after a man who fell off a train because he couldn’t handle guilt.” James snarled at her. “If he wanted to be accurate, he woulda named you Winter.”

He pulled away, forcing her to stop leaning on his car and stumbling. ‘Course Steve would name his kid after him. His kid that he left  _ James _ alone in the new world to have and raise. He went and beat the shit out of some punching bags, wondering if it was too far to tape the bastard’s face to it.

How long would he spend in the ‘anger’ phase? Would it last the rest of his forsakenly long life? James had long since accepted not being able to forgive Steve. It wasn’t about him wanting to try and spark a relationship again. It wasn’t even about the fact that Steve had given up the shield twice before. He had left without a look back. He had dared to use the same words Bucky had used all those years ago before shipping out. Left his only true family to be a piece of the American dream. James wondered if Peggy had even wanted to be a part of it.

The funeral was a frankly gaudy affair, James thought to himself, and he drove around in a red sports car. His lip twitched at the irony. Becky, god bless her, had reached out to him to do the epitaph. James didn’t think he would be able to handle it. She thought he had meant because of the grief. He had meant because of the disgust.

_ “Captain America, ladies and gentlefolks! Saver of men and deserter of his best friend!” _

His lip twitched again, not wanting to give away his true emotions. He knew there were likely cameras pointed at him, the infamous Sergeant James Barnes. His face was probably broadcast live to many people mourning the death of the original Captain America. 

He lingered behind, twirling the red rose in his metal fingers. He hoped he looked grief stricken. He hoped nobody could tell he wanted to punch the pure white headstone until it looked like flour. Sam nodded at him when everyone had left except the grave attendants. James really didn’t deserve Sam, in all his steadfast goodness.

“Here’s the end of my line, asshole. Wish you had been with me.” James spat out, crushing the rose in his hand before flinging the scraps on the coffin.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry, ms carter


End file.
